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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27266254">only blood and bones and ashes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat'>anupturnedboat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Autumn, Childhood Friends, Crushes, F/M, First Love, Friends to Lovers, Ghosts, Halloween, Inspired by The X-Files, Reunions</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,284</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27266254</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/anupturnedboat/pseuds/anupturnedboat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There had been a familiar name buried in the police reports. It probably wasn’t the same Gendry Waters, but she was pretty certain it was. And, well, childhood crushes died hard. She’d always wondered what had become of him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arya Stark/Gendry Waters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>117</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>only blood and bones and ashes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">“It’s just a small detour,” her partner grumbles grouchily, mimicking her earlier words, trying to get a rise out of her, which doesn’t work because she knows him too well, knows to let his biting words roll off her back instead of engaging. She ignores his irritated twitching and watches the windshield wipers swipe at the thick, wet, mist that has settled over the Stormlands instead.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">It was, in all truth, more than a small detour on their way back to Kings Landing.It would add two days at least, but they weren’t technically on assignment, and technically they could squeeze a few more days out of the trip without raising any brows. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d run a lead on their own, and besides Clegane owed her for all the times she’d covered for his drunk ass.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had come across the reports about the strange sightings the last night in Oldtown. She couldn’t help but be intrigued, and acted impulsively. She’d spent some of the best summers of her childhood in the Stormlands, campingatop Griffin’s Roost with her brothers, sneaking out of the cabin she shared with Sansa and exploring the ruins of Summerhall under cover of darkness, the salty breeze from Shipbreaker Bay making her shiver.She’d never had any supernatural experiences other than her brothers telling Old Nan’s ghost stories around the campfire to scare Bran and Rickon. That was all before father died and everything went to shit, but the fond memories of family trips to the seaside town had remained.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">And, there had been a familiar name buried in the police reports. It probably wasn’t the same Gendry Waters, but she was pretty certain it was. And, well, childhood crushes died hard. She’d always wondered what had become of him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can’t see a fucking thing,” Clegane mutters, interrupting her thoughts. “If we end up driving off a cliff it’ll be your fault Stark,” he barks, his hands clutching the wheel tightly, as he tries to peer through the fog obscuring the road in front of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We won’t drive off a cliff.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Better fucking not.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She remembers most of the roads from the summers she’s spent here. Her family had been frequent guests of the Baratheon’s who owned property here as well as the historic castle that sat at the tip of Durran’s Point, but she still nearly misses the sign she’s been keeping an eye out for. “Turn here,” she says quickly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Turn where?” Clegane shouts.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Right, turn right!” she barks just in time for him to make the turn. They bounce along the unpavedroad for a few moments until Storm’s End emerges from the gloom, as immense and solid as she remembered it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There is one other car in the gravel lot.A gray haired man in a black trench coat leans against it, his eyes on the sea.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sheriff Seaworth?” She callsout as the wind steals her words and whips her hair about her face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Agent Stark,” he replies pleasantly, shaking her hand, before turning to Clegane. “I’ll admit your interest in this matter caught me off guard, but, I’d be happy to show you around.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">***</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had read the file, and surmised there probably wasn’t anything inherently supernatural going on. With the bloody historyof the Stormlands it was entirely plausible that tourists could let their imaginations run wild and see things that weren’t there. Or, perhaps there was something more sinister going on, like sex trafficking or a cult.Most of the reports were of a naked woman, gagged, and in chains.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>But, what if?</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had seen enough unexplainable things in her line of work to remain open minded, to see beyond the confines of the rational world.Clegane had too, which is why he’s stopped complaining, and started warily scanning the lot and historic castle looming in front of them as Sheriff Seaworth leads them towards the massive stone curtain wall. “Can I ask what the FBI's interest in this might be?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Any reports of missing people around here?” Clegane questions, all business, pushing past the Sheriff to examine the empty stables.If the Sheriff is put off by her partners brusque manner, he doesn’t let on.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Negative on that,” he replies easily, as they continue to look around.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And the caretaker in the police reports, is he around? We’ll be needing to talk to him.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh, he’s around somewhere,” Seaworth says. “In fact, he’s the only one you’ll find up here these days. Museums’ closed,visitors are only allowed in the stables and yard,” he explains, “the rest is undergoing renovation, the weather wreaks havoc on these old stones.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arya almost asks about the magic the old stones were supposed be imbued with, tall tales she remembers from her childhood, but holds her tongue as a figure appears across the yard.Head down, broad shoulders, that bullish gait — she’d know him anywhere, and suddenly she feels like she is fourteen all over again.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“And this where they’ve seen the woman?”Clegane, huffs, his fists buried in his pockets, disgruntled by the cold wind and mist the stone walls can’t hold off. “The apparition?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Aye, if you believe in that sort of thing,” Sheriff Seaworth says as the figure draws nearer.“People think they see a lot of things out here, the weather sets a rather foreboding scene. Especially this time of year.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arya prides herself on beingable to root out lies, quickly recognize nervous tells, but her brain is a bit scrambled at the moment, bouncing back and forth between the approaching man in the rain jacket zipped up to the neck againstthe wind,and the Sheriff.She can’t tell if Seaworth believes the stories or not, or if he’s covering for incompetent police work if there is actually some kind of foul play going on.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Storms rolling in-”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Speaking of foreboding,” Sheriff Seaworth says jovially, as the man joins them, “this is-shoed”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Gendry?” Arya finds herself blurting out.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His brow furrows just the way she remembers. The unrelenting wind has left her feeling disheveled and chapped, and suddenly self conscious. It dawns on her that he may not remember her at all. May not remember her as fondly as she remembers him. The last time she’d seen him they argued after all.She tries to pat down the ravens nest the wind had made of her hair.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Arya Stark?” he finally says, “What are you doing here?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Official business,” she lies coolly, her training kicking in. She breathes out, slow and deep, squares her shoulders, schools her face. She flicks her jacket aside letting him see the badge clipped to her waistband.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">If he’s impressed, his gruff demeanor hides it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It sounds like you two know each other?” Sheriff Seaworth asks his brows raised, a look passing between him and Gendry that Arya can’t read.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Knew each other as kids,” she says curtly to the older man, not quite ready to look back into Gendry’s questioning blue eyes. “My family summered here at the Baratheon estate.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She does not mention that Gendry and his mother had been part of the household staff at the Baratheon estate. That she’d spent lazy summer days in the stables, pestering him while he shoed horses, and mucked the stalls, until her mother called her in for dinner, which was served on fancy dinnerware by <em>his</em> mother. Gendry had always had a chip on his shoulder about their class differences.She wonders, briefly, if he still does.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What a coincidence,” Sheriff Seaworth says, his gaze darting between the two of them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You look . . . good,” Gendry says, gruffly, his brow still furrowed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks, so do you,” she replies impassively, unsure if it is a compliment. He looks like he’d like to take the words back as quickly as he’d uttered them. The tips of her ears redden nevertheless.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“For fucks sake,” Cleganemutters, fixing her with a pointed glare, because he knows his partner too well. She contemplates telling him to fuck right off, but the sky opens up just then, fat rain droplets landing on his leather jacket.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Agents Stark and Clegane came all this way to see about the reports of the woman,” Sheriff Seaworth says unperturbed by the way the sky has darkened or the rain that has started to fall in a steady beat.“You want to show them around? Show them there are no spirits here?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Your official business is ghost stories?”Gendry grumbles narrowing his eyes at her peevishly. She can feel Clegane bristle next to her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Naked women wandering around the woods is as official as it gets,” Clegane snarls.“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arya sighs loudly, glaring at her partner, imploring him to ease up.This isn’t supposed to be an interrogation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I don’t like what you are implying,” Gendry says crossing his arms over his chest.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She steps forward, putting herself between the two.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Gentlemen, perhaps-” Sheriff Seaworth starts.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good, cause what I am implying could land your ass in federal prison.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Enough.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The three men turn at her sharp tone. Clegane grumbles disgustedly, but steps back.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Ok, let’s take a breath,” Sheriff Seaworth says putting a hand on Gendry’s shoulder, “no need to accuse any one of anything just yet. Maybe we can just take a quick look around?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Not today,” Gendry scowls.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Clegane curses under his breath. Gendry ignores him, his eyes swinging back to hers, making her shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the sky overhead. “The roads up here flood out in storms like this. Too dangerous to get caught up here. Maybe tomorrow if you’re still in town.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">***</p><p class="p1">“Clegane, it’s me open up,” she shouts knocking harder on his door.He’d hardly spoken to her last night as she’d navigated them into town and booked them rooms over the phone. She hadn’t even tried to explain her interest in Storm’s End, or how she knew Gendry.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">What would she even say? That he’d been the best friend she’d ever had? That she’d selfishly begged him to come to Winterfell with her at summers end when she was fourteen, completely disregarding the fact that he had an actual life of his own? That she had been a petulant brat when he’d tried to let her down gently? </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She remembers running from him, through the brambles, as he called after her.She’d run all the way up to the room she shared with Sansa, collapsing into her bed, scraped knees, and her throat raw with humiliation and unshed tears.It had been the last time she’d ever seen him.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey! It’s Halloween,” she shouts, shaking the embarrassing memory away and pounding on Clegane’s door again, because when it came down to it, she’d rather have him with her, despite his shitty attitude than go it alone. They made a good team and he’d always had her back, “Let's go find a ghost!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The door swings open at that, he glowers at her, his nose red, looking miserable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“No,” he coughs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re sick?” she asks incredulously. “You never get sick,” she says pushing towards him to see if he’s got a fever.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He swats her away, “Just go see your twat boyfriend, so we can the hell out of this soggy fucking town.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He’s not-" she starts, as Clegane slams the door in her face, “my boyfriend.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She takes it back, she’d rather do this alone than deal with his shitty attitude she fumes as she backs out of the parking slot in front of the hotel. “Asshole,” she seethes under her breath.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She is grateful that the weather has cleared a bit, although it’s still dreary. Her only memories are of hot and humid summer days, the constant rain is throwing her off. That and stupid Gendry, and his stupidly handsome face that is even more handsome that it had been when they were teenagers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She tries not to think about his stupid face at all as she makes the drive to Storm’s End.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">This is a job like any other she reminds herself, she will even file a report. She will establish that there isn’t any kind of foul play going on, that there isn’t a need to call in reinforcements, or set up a perimeter to conduct a search for a missing woman.She’ll probably even debunk the ghost sightings. And then she and Clegane will get back on the road, and onto the next.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She will not embarrass herself over this stupid childhood crush. <em>She won’t.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She taps on the wheel nervously as she turns onto the road they’d driven up yesterday.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">There are no other cars in the lot when she pulls in, she shuts the ignition off and takes three deep breaths, listening to the flutter of her heart. In and out. In and out. In and out. When she opens her eyes he’s there, heading towards her, his head bowed against the wind, his hands in his pockets.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She steps out, squares her shoulders, relaxes into the professional stance her training has perfected. <em>Light as a feather</em>,she thinks, a throwback to her time at the academy.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey, Waters,” she greets him holding out her hand. “Thanks for meeting with me now that the storm has passed. I just have a few questions.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He looks at her outstretched hand like she’s grown two heads. But eventually takes it, wrapping his other hand over their joined hands and shaking softly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Hey,” he returns quietly before rubbing at the back of his neck, a nervous gesture that is so familiar, that a wave of fondness rushes over her. “Sorry about yesterday, it was kind of a shock seeing you after all these years.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It was strange for me too. Sorry my partner was such a dick.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">His eyes sweep past her, towards the car, a questioning look, on his face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He’s sick,” she offers with a shrug.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says gruffly, not looking sorry at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Liar.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“He was a total dick,” Gendry grins crookedly, and damn it if her heart rate doesn’t soar.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Clearly he still has this effect on her, g<em>reat, just great.</em></p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I can answer your questions inside, it’s cold as fuck out here.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She follows him past the stables, and through the yard where the chained woman had been reported. The muddy earth squelches under her boots, as she surveys the formidable stone tower. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So now that’s it’s just us, you haven’t been abducting women and chaining them up in the dungeon have you?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Course not,” he squints at her, that pinched, perplexed look that she remembers so well on his face, “this place doesn’t even have a dungeon.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Good. But for the record I have a gun and I know how to use it.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He blinks at her, but doesn’t look worried at all. A wry grin makes its way into his face, “You haven’t changed one bit.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She wants to ask him what that is supposed to mean. Is that a good or bad thing? The thought that he might still see her as awkward fourteen Arya irks her. “There have been quite a few reports. Always of the same woman, long black hair, ice blue eyes. Vanishes into thin air? Sound familiar?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds like people have very vivid imaginations,” he says, unlocking the padlock holding the ancient castle keep closed.He motions for her to follow.The round hall is dark and dank, and filled with trickles of sound she can’t place. A dozen or more weathered stag antlers hang imposingly on the walls. She has to admit, it is the perfect atmosphere to conjure up a spirit real or imagined.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, you’re a cop then?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She can feel his eyes on her as she takes in her surroundings. A pair of mismatched swords displayed over a once grand fireplace catch her attention. Her fingers itch to touch them.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“FBI, special unit, we handle cases like this.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He raises his brows at that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Unusual cases,” she clarifies.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I never would have guessed rebellious little Arya Stark would end up in law enforcement.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What about you? Didn’t know you cared so much about history, especially Baratheon history.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I guess I started to after I inherited the place.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Inherited?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Turns out I am Robert Baratheon s bastard son.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What the actual fuck?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Yeah, that was my reaction too.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Arya lets the revelation sink in, ruminating over how earth shattering the news must have been for him. He’d always been prickly when it came to the wealth displayed by the Baratheon family. The fact that they had a “summer house," while he and his mother, lived in thecramped servants quarters, barely getting by, and did all the work to keep the place in proper order, even when it sat empty for months and months had galled him. She hadn’t quite understood his resentment then, but now — well, she can see his point.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you’re a Baratheon now?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He scowls.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Gendry Baratheon,” she pronounces, slowly drawing out every syllable, pretending not to notice the annoyed look on his face. “Sounds weird.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fuck no. I didn’t take his name, and I don’t plan to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“But you took this broken downplace?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Someone had to,” he looks up, and she follows his gaze, “see that chandelier?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She does, barely, it looks rusted out and covered in cobwebs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s been here since Middle Ages, it needs restoration, but I think I can get it looking good as new. I was trying to figure out how I was going to get it down when you and you partner showed up yesterday.It feels wrong to just let all this stuff go to rot.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’re really invested in saving this old place,” she finds herself saying admiringly. If it wasn’t so dark, she’d be embarrassed by the way the tips of her ears turn red, when he smiles at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling attractively.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Seems wrong for something that has stood so long.” She smiles at that, she’s always had reverence for history and the places where it bleeds through.She has her father to thank for that.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It deserves more than-” he starts, searching for words, then changes direction, “which is why I’m a little put off by people poking around here ghost hunting.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you don’t believe?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“In ghosts?” he scoffs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You’ve never seen anything you can’t explain?Plenty of other people have, I’ve got the witness accounts. The Sheriff gets called up here on the regular.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“People see what they want to see,” he replies gruffly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That’s not an answer,” she chides.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He narrows his eyes at her, “Why are you really here Stark?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Because the minute I saw your name on that police report, all I could think about was seeing you again . . .</em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Time stands still for just a moment, his piercing gaze making her face feel hot. Making her feel exposed and vulnerable.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Official-”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Business,” he cuts her off. “You already said that,” he says rolling his eyes.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <em>Fuck. Could he see right through her? </em>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Can you just finish showing me around so that I can go back to the hotel andfile my report?” she snaps, feeling embarrassed, like she’s fourteen again, asking him to run away with her.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I can do that,” he relents after a beat, “follow me. I want to show you something.” The cautious grin he throws over his shoulder, sets her feet moving of their own accord.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">They wind their way up what feels like an endless spiral of narrow, unevenstairs. Past barracks, an armory, and the lords chambers, their footfalls echoing loudly around them. The darkness is deeply unsettling and she finds herself thumbing the cap of her holster, her eyes darting about.She’s not often, or easily spooked, but there is something about this place that has her on edge.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You ok?” Gendry pauses, concern showing in his disarmingly attractive blue eyes. “This place takes somegetting used to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Fine,” she says, mustering more confidence than she feels. “It’s just dark.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We’re almost there,” he says reassuringly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The stairway abruptly ends in a windowless cell that opens up into what was once a rookery. When she looks down she can see that it is more than a hundred foot drop to the sea below. The view is breathtaking.From this vantage point she can see the rollicking waves of Shipbreaker Bay, and within a few turns the yard and stables below, and beyond.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“This is amazing Gendry.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s why I’m holding on to this old place. Can’t imagine letting it go to someone who’d tear it down to build a seafront McMansion. It’s going to need a lot of repairs though.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Up here, the cold air goes right to the bones. She wraps her arms around herself against it. She sneaks a glance at Gendry who is pensively watching the waves crash below them. He is different, but also, so very much the same.She wishes things had been different, that they had stayed friends. She could have used one.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Do you remember that story your brother used to tell about the Windproud?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The shipwreck,” she nods, “Patchfce went mad, at the end didn’t he?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That really happened, the shipwreck part anyway. I researched it. I always thought it was just a story people made up to scare little kids.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She isn’t entirely sure where he’s going with this, “It was a good creepy story, especially when Robb did all the voices.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’s weird to think about being connected to any of those people, the Baratheon’s. It’s not exactly the family I expected to belong to.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>I can be your family. </em>She had said that once hadn’t she? If he remembers, he doesn’t say anything, and his face is still stormy, his gaze lost at sea.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Im sorry about how I left things between us,” she finds herself saying around the lump in her throat. “I-”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We were just kids,” he shrugs moving to stand next to her. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It was a stupid thing to be mad about,” she adds.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“I never held it against you. Missed you though,” he says knocking his shoulder against hers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She looks up sideways at that, at the earnest look on his face, and feels her own melting into a grin. It’s on the tip of her tongue to tell him everything. What happened to father, how her world had imploded, how she had missed him too.But just then, something across the yard catches her eye.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She leans forward, hanging over the lip of the wall. “Do you see that?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She feels Gendry move closer to her, his palm coming to rest on the small of her back as she leans further over. She keeps her eyes on the silvery gray swishes of light, a form, then two, swirling, and then dissipating, half realized but there.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What is it?” he asks his breath ghosting against her ear, making her shiver.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She’s not sure what she’s seeing, she breathes out slowly, makingherself still, alert, focused. There is a small sound, that floats up from below. Laughter?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Arya-”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Shh,” she says reaching for his hand without thinking about it.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She holds her breath, tries to bring the forms below into focus, a chill runs up her spine. Her heart pounds against her rib cage. This feeling, this thrill of discovery, it never gets old, no matter how much she’s seen, how much evidence of the supernatural she’s collected. The forms blink in and out ofsolid state, and sparkling silvery mist. The sounds grow louder, a word she can’t make out cutting across the yard. And then the clang and scratch of steel against steel. She thinks of the mismatched swords in the round hall.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">A dance, two wisps, sparring — laughter and steel cutting through the air like a song.</p><p class="p1">It awakens something in her, something that feels like the kind of old magic you know as a child, like father scooping her up and swinging her about on a summers day. Like sneaking out to explore the ruins with Gendry when she was fourteen.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gendry’s fingers squeeze hers and she knows he feels it too.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">***</p><p class="p1">Gendry suggests a pub that is close enough to her hotel that she can park there and walk over.It’s started raining again, and she is appreciative that they are seated at a table near the huge stone fireplace. She hangs her damp jacket on the back of her chair.It’s a cozy kind of place, with scarred up tables and plush mismatched chairs. The walls are covered in tartan, and wooden crests hang above each booth. A line of Jack-o-Lanterns flicker pleasantly on themantle. It’s exactly the kind of place she can imagine Gendry frequenting.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Everything on the menu looks good, and she is definitely ordering pumpkin pie for dessert.They both order a pint and clink their glasses together, “To old friends," he says.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Old friends,” she agrees.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“How’s your family,” he asks around bites of food. “I was sorry to hear about your dad.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Thanks,” she swallows, the pain of it always rising to the surface before she can tamp it down. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything about it. “The rest of us are as dysfunctional as ever,” she deflects. “How’s your mom?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“She died awhile back.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Oh god, I’m so sorry I didn’t know,” she says reaching out, her fingers landing on his wrist. He turns his hand over and they briefly link their fingers, their eyes finishing the conversation.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She wants to say more, but their server appears just then and they both settle back into their seats, the moment lost.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So, I come all this way and I don’t even get to meet the ghostly woman of Storm’s End,” she muses raising a brow. “My partners’ going to pissed-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sorry to disappoint,” he chews, not sounding sorry at all.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“It’d make sense though, if it is Argella Durrandon, unable to rest. She was the OG Storm Queen, she fought for her land, for her heritage. She’d not go quietly into the night.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Are you actually trying to ID a hypothetical ghost?” he asks incredulously.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Maybe she has a message,” she ignores him. “Maybe she’s not happy with the renovations or-”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Storm’s End isn’t haunted,” he grunts.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“How do you explain what we saw then? I’d say you have more than one ghost to worry about.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Trick of light, altitude sickness? Fevers? Sleep deprivation!”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Great, thanks I’ll put all of that in my report,” she stops him drily.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Mass hysteria,” he adds quickly.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She kicks his shin under the table. And he raises his hands in surrender. “Look, I don’t understand what that was today,” he says in a hushed tone, leaning in towards her, “I’ve never seen anything like <em>that</em> before. Just the once I-“</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He stops himself, pushing back into his seat. She raises her brow, but he refuses to go on.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“So you have seen something of the supernatural persuasion then,” she prods, leaningback, having had her fill of brick chicken and skillet mushrooms. “Why’d you lie about it?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Gendry pushes away the remnants of his brisket sandwich, “I didn’t say <em>that</em>.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Then what are you saying?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“That there is no such things as ghosts.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Have you always been this stubborn?” she sighs.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You love it,” he teases, around one of those crookedly charming smiles, and she feels herself warming under his gaze. They are both on their second pint, and looser around each other than they’d been earlier in the day.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You wish,” she shoots back, and they both chuckle.He raises his glass and her gaze flits to his lips on the rim, the way his throat moves when he swallows. “I had the biggest crush on you,” she admits before she can stop herself, “back then.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He pauses, “I know.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He’s not being cocky about it, he’s not teasing her either. It’s not his way, it’s part of why she’d liked him back then, and now too, she guesses.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">The air between them suddenly feels charged, she studies his face, the way she does all things that interest her, cataloguing information, reading expressions.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“What?” he asks, making a face at her inspection.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She had always wondered, if she had been older, if circumstances had been different would he have seen her <em>that</em> way?</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You were too young for that,” he says setting his glass down, as if he can read her mind.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Am I still?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He pauses, looking flummoxed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1"><em>Shit</em>. She bites her lip, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “I’m sorry I don’t know why I said that,” she says in a rush. “I shouldn’t have now I’ve made it weird and I-"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You are just about the perfect age now.” Hisvoice sounds gravelly, and he visibly swallows before his eyes swing back to hers.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">***</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He insists on walking her back to the hotel despite the fact that she’s the one with a gun on her hip. It’s still raining, neither of them has an umbrella, but she hardly notices as they practically run the three blocks back. They reach the hotel lobby, drenched and out of breath, grinning like crazy people at each other.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Want to come up?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sure,” he nods, his gaze piercing.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">Once inside, she kicks off her boots and shucks off her wet jacket.She unclips her holster and when she looks up his eyes are on her face.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She steps forward and pulls him towards her before her nerves get the best of her.It takes him a moment to catch up and then his fingers dig into her hips urging her closer. He kisses her back soft and sweet, and walks her backward his lips never leaving hers until the backs of her knees hit the bed.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">She runs her fingers up under his shirt and he tugs it off tossing it over his shoulder. She does the same with hers, and scoots back. He kicks off his shoes and then crawls up her body, hovering over her, the expression on his face so serious.She reaches up and smooths the worried look away, and he smiles softly. They kiss liketeenagers for what feels like forever, time curling up on itself slow and luxurious.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">He palms her breasts while she wiggles out of her pants.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“We should have done this a long time ago,” she breathes against him, and he chuckles raggedly against the hollow of her neck.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">After, he draws lazy circles on her bare thigh. “So you leave in the morning?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">While that had been the plan, she found that all she really wanted to do was stay right here in this room, in his arms, maybe forever, but at least one more day. The thought was as foreign as it was wonderful. Her career had taken her all over Westeros, and she’d thrived on the adventure of it, but now . . . what if she could have both? “My partner is probably still hacking up a lung,” she smirks, “it would be best if we stayed another day, let him rest up.”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Sounds like the kind thing to do,” he murmurs, pulling her flush against him, his lips finding that spot below her ear. “And if I know you, you want to spend tomorrow trying to conjure up Angela-"</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“Argella,” she corrects, feelinghis lips curve up into a smile against her skin</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“You really believe in this stuff?”</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">“The truth is out there Waters,” she says, pushing him onto his back, grinning at the way his gaze darkens, his fingers flexing on her hips as she moves.</p><p class="p2"> </p>
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